The Time That Passes
by AbigailBell
Summary: The story is as follows... Ireland Hayes and her younger sister, Willow, have survived the outbreak of the infection that creates the walking dead. Now they live day to day, meal to meal in the fallout of what is left of the world while the infected are still roaming the streets of abandoned cities. They now resign in abandoned underground bunker. Reviews are appreciated.
1. The Time That Passes

_**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any books or songs or bands mentioned in this story.**_

The story is as follows...  
>Ireland Hayes and her younger sister, Willow, have survived the outbreak of the infection that creates the walking dead. Now they live day to day, meal to meal in the fallout of what is left of the world while the infected roam the streets of the abandoned cities. They now resign in abandoned underground bunker that Ireland found as a child while playing in the woods with her older brother, who is now deceased. Ireland and Willow prepare for the winter months by making a their new home secure.<p>

**The Time That Passes**

**Chapter 1**

Eleven months and four days since the lifeless bodies took over the entirety of the earth. We're the lucky ones. We survived. We are survivors. We are the remains of what the world use to be. But in a way nothing has really changed. It was a dog eat dog world… and now the dogs have a bigger appetite.

Now we have the fundamental needs. A bed to sleep in at night. A roof over our heads. A source of food and water. Finally, safe. But this word 'safe' confuses me. I am restless. Were we ever really safe? I am just waiting for it being taken away from me again. Waiting for Willow drifting apart from me like we're on two separate sheets of ice. It still haunts my slumber.  
>It's almost everynight I awaken from a nightmare to then grasp that I awoke in a horror. She can see it, I know she can. The exhausted expression, the glimpse of the battered soul behind the eyes. I'm just like them to her, already gone. But she forces a smile, she too is struggling.<br>*** * *****  
><strong>I awake with a jolt from another dream. The screams never die down instantly, even though I am conscious. Moods of panic and terror are omitted from my mind by the sight of the hot coals in the furnace across the room. I brush off the beads of sweat from my forehead. Relieved, I hear Willow's soft snores from across the bed. I reach out an arm out for her warmth. Lying there, gazing at the ceiling, I only wonder when the sun will rise.  
>About an hour passes and it is early enough climb out of bed. I stretch. A groan forces itself from my mouth. I take another glance at Willow, who is still steadily asleep. Her breaths are poised which makes her appearance more innocent. The light from the fiery embers make her red hair more vibrant and her ivory skin glow. Willow appeared angelic.<br>I put on my greyish-green pants, a fresh black t-shirt and waxed -canvas hunting shoes. As I go to grab my bow, I hear Willow softly moan. She rubs her eyes.  
>"Hunting?" she asks warily. I nod.<br>"I'll be back soon with dinner." I say. I turn to go.  
>"Wait!" she calls. I stop and look at her. She gets out of the covers and sluggishly saunters over to me. She takes my hair and quickly twists it into a braid. She smiles.<br>"There. I'll have some tea for you when you get back." She says. I grin and ascend up the ladder.  
><strong>* * *<br>**I inspect the snares with the searing sun on my back. The first snare has a small cottontail rabbit which I smile triumphantly upon. I store it in my bag. After the resetting the snare I continue to the second entrapment.  
>I brush off sweat off of my forehead and take a sip of warm water. It isn't easy adapting to the Georgian heat when you are born and raised in the Pacific Northwest. I yearn for the refreshing rain.<br>As I approach my second snare I find a trail of blood leading from the trap. I analyze the snare to discover what had happened. The rope was tangled and distorted. Around it was a small amount of guts and blood. Next to the gore was a squirrel's head. Most likely a drifter or another animal got my squirrel.  
>Out of the blue a soft snap reverberated behind me. I grab my bow and turn but I was too delayed. A man stood in front of me with his crossbow aimed by my forehead. He eyes me suspiciously. The lump that has formed in my throat stops me from breathing. Instantly my weak legs begin to tremble. My knuckles are white from clenching my bow so vigorously. Although panicked and little bit terrified, I stand firm and keep eye screams return from my nightmares. And when I finally inhale he pulls the trigger.<br>But it does not go through my skull like I thought. Instead the arrow travels past my right side and hits something behind me. A harsh thud follows closely after. I glance over my shoulder and quickly return eye contact to the man. He had killed a drifter. Someone in close distance calls and the man turns his head. In that instant I sprint back to the bunker.


	2. Kill or Be Killed

**Kill or be Killed  
>Chapter 2<br>**  
>The following morning Willow and I set out to scavenge in the next town. We look through the shelves of the pharmacy. I stock heavy painkillers, gauze and antibiotics in my bag. I climb over the counter and start to amble to Willow. I look over and see the liquor section and stop. I look back towards Willow. She is packing toothpaste and toothbrushes. I head to the wine shelf. I grab two bottles of a red wine.<br>_Smack!_  
>"Ireland!" Willow calls. I run over to her. Toothpaste and toothbrushes cover the floor. I find Willow confronted by a drifter. The drifter is at the end of the isle and is limping over towards us. She draws her knife but she freezes from fear.<p>

"Willow… you have to kill it." I say raising my bow. She frozen and the drifter's keeps staggering slowly to Willow.  
>"Willow." I say. She doesn't move. I aim my arrow at the drifter's head. Willow is still shaking. The drifter then growls and reaches it's arms at Willow. Willow then panics and gives out a cry. Dropping the knife she covers her head. I fire an arrow that sinks in it's eye socket. A loud thud is followed after. I go to the drifter and pull out the arrow.<br>I kneel down in front of Willow and gently place my hands on her shoulders. She is still shaking from fright.  
>"Hey, it's okay." I say. She shook her head.<br>"I couldn't do it. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't kill it." She says. Her voice is shakey. I put my hand on her cheek. She is pushing back the tears.  
>"Willow…" I say.<br>"No… I didn't want too. I still don't want too." she says.  
>"Willow you'll have too, eventually." I say. Tears flow down her face and she sobs.<br>"Its kill or be killed." I whisper. She wraps her arms around me and sobs in my shoulder. All I could think was that one day she might have to kill me, but I don't dare her that, not now.  
><strong>* * *<strong>  
>"What is that?" Willow asks. She nods to the wine hiding in my bag. I bite my lip.<br>" Well, christmas is coming up and I thought that maybe we could have a glass of wine that night." I answer. She nods but does not completely dismisses it.  
>"How does wine make anything special?" she candidly asks.<br>"I don't know… It's festive…?" I say unsure.  
>"Oh." She says and immediately goes back to storing medicine in tin box. I put more wood on the fire and watch the sticks get eaten in flames. I rest my head against the wall as my eyes scan the walls full of picture of the life we once lived.<p> 


	3. Solitude

**Solitude  
>Chapter 3<strong>

I learned how to track when I was about Willow's age. Tiny I was, compared to the adult sized bow my father gave me. I smile at thought. It was the finest gift I had ever received. This wasn't just a bow, it was my father's. This bow that I hold in my hands was passed down from his father, who crafted the beauty himself. My father was half Powhatan. His real last name is Little Wolf. Instead of my mother taking his name, he took Hayes and he regretted it for the remainder of his left the side of the bow there is a small tribal carving of a wolf.  
>I have my father's physical traits. Brown hair, tanned complexion and hazel eyes. Willow takes after our mother. The Irish red hair ivory skin and green eyes both describe Willow and mom.<br>Tracking wasn't my leading skill. I rather shoot a bow or set up a simple rolling snare. But I wasn't terrible, I just wasn't confident in the affair.  
>My "skill" directs me uphill. As I ascend skyward, I wipe sudor off my head. Climbing the steep hill was toilsome and tedious, but the prize was set in my mind. Delicious venison. The thought made my mouth water. It was worth it and finally I reach the top. The breeze blew through the loose hairs in my braid. I felt light headed, like I would be taken in the wind and aviate like a kite.<br>Then there it was. A white tailed buck. I raise my bow and breathe slowly. The deer was eating grass. From the look of a heavy chest and the muscle on the shoulders, the buck looks like three and half years old. I exhale and the arrow pierces the brain. While I amble deeper into the clearing, I see an outline of the nearby town. It's about five miles away. I gently quiver and look away. The abandoned town looks dead. Once it was thriving and now it is forgotten like a dead man out of mind.  
>I take the buck over my shoulder and stagger while I travel to the bunker.<p> 


	4. Restitution

**Restitution**  
><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Winter is approaching in only a few weeks and the temperature has already start to drop. Today, however, the sun shines and the air has risen to a sweltering humidity. Willow and I decide to enjoy our last few days of warmth. We go to a stream not a half a mile from the bunker. I plummet in the cool water and gasp. The water felt exhilarating against my skin. Willow trots in. I splash water at her playfully. She giggles and returns fire.  
>Taking a rooted breath I dip underwater. I stay under for a while and look at the light glistening through the water. Everything seems slower under the water's surface. As if time ceased to exist completely. I push off the small river's floor and transpire above water. I catch my breath. Willow returns to land and dresses herself.<br>"I saw some blackberries on the way here, they are not far." she says. I just look at her. She bites my lip, a nervous trait she overtime acquired from me.  
>"They're just past the trees." she explains.<br>"Take your knife and call if anything happens." I say. She nods and travels into the woods. I get out of the water and put on my clothes. With my fingers I brush through the tangles in my hair. My hair is only damp when I pull it in a ponytail. As I was bathing I notice that salmon berries were growing on the border of the creek. Gingerly, I pick the berries.  
>Overtime I start to think to a few weeks ago when I encountered the drifter and the man. Flashbacks return me to the moment the arrow slipped out of the crossbow and past me. I was mystified on why he saved me. Analyzing the snare occupied my attention I wouldn't have noticed the drifter. I barely detected the sound that he made. He didn't know me nor did he have to save me. I don't know if I would have risked it, being spotted like that. For all I could know they would follow me. Willow matters more to me than saving a stranger. What made me bothered was that in some way I owed him something.<br>I am alarmed at Willow's call and come running. Her voice sounded panicked. My bow is clutched in my hands and I take out an arrow to fire. But when I arrive it's not a drifter. Infact Willow is not in danger. She stands over a man who is quavering in pain. Only this is no stranger. It was the man who saved me and he was hurt bad.


	5. Atonement

Atonement  
>Chapter 5<p>

He was trembling and moaning. I don't think he was lucid. He was mumbling but it was too quiet to hear. I bite the inside of my cheek. Willow bends down and inspects at his injured leg. Then she puts the back of her hand against his forehead.  
>"He has a fever and the cut is deep. If we leave him here he'll die." she says. I groan. I am flustered. Willow looks at me puzzled. She doesn't know what happened. My leg shakes and I try to make up my mind.<br>"Ireland!" Willow yells. "He doesn't have long." I grab her by the shoulder and look her in the eye.  
>"He only stays until he heals then he has to leave. We blindfold him so he can't find us again. Got it?" I say. She nods. I take his arm and put it around my shoulder. Now I can hear what he was mumbling.<br>"Merle...You crazy son of bitch."

I rest him on the table. He has passed out now and his pulse is faint. First, I scan for bites. None, thank god. I clean wound thoroughly and find thread to stitch the cut up. It took a while to stop the bleeding but surely enough, it subsided. I ask Willow to make sage tea and place a wet rag on his head.  
>"The hell?" My head snaps up to see that he is awake. He shrugs away and falls on the floor. He must of momentarily forgot about his leg.<br>"Fuck!" he yells. I shoot out of my chair and attempt to assist him up but he shoves me away. When he tries to get up he falls back down. I kneel beside him.  
>"That cut is deep. Its bleeding again. And if you don't let me help you, you'll die." I say. He inspects me up and down for a brief moment.<br>"It's you." he says. My stomach flips and suddenly I feel sick. I start to bite my nails but quickly stop. I glimpse over at Willow. Perplexed she looks back at me.  
>"What does he mean?" She asks. I look back at him with a scowl. I never wanted her to know. A close call like that she won't let me leave. She needs to feel secure.<br>"Willow is tea ready?" I ask. I hear her sigh.  
>"Ireland what did he mean." she demands. I bite back the seething anger.<br>"Willow not now." I say. I grab the man and help him on the table. I take the needle and thread and begin to stitch his leg. Willow hands a mug to him.  
>"Drink. It'll bring the fever down" she says. He nods.<br>"Thanks." He takes a sip.  
>"I'm going harvest some herbs." Willow says.<br>"Take your knife. Yell if you need something. Stay close." I say. She nods and climbs the ladder out of the bunker. I look back at him. He takes another sip and I finish the stitching.


	6. Gin

Gin  
>Chapter 6<p>

"I didn't think you were real. Thought I was seeing things." he says. I remain silent. I rub neosporin on his thigh. He tenses. I then position a gauze pad over the stitches.  
>"When was the last time you ate?" I ask.<br>"Must've been a few days." he says. He takes another sip. I tape down the gauze. I stand and go to the closet where we stock food. I seize jerky and berries and hand them to him. He scarfs it down.  
>"What's your name?" I ask. Looking up at me he stops chewing.<br>"Daryl. Yours?" He asks.  
>"Ireland." I say. He snorts.<br>"Ireland? I thought I heard that girl wrong." He says. I cross my arms and lean against the wall.  
>"I guess not." He says. For awhile there is a lingering silence. His eyes dart around the room behind his shaggy dark hair. All I could ponder was what was the reason of saving me.<br>"Why did you do it?" I ask. His blue eyes are fixed on me. For some reason I look away.  
>"Why did I do what?" he asks. I can't bring myself to say "save".<br>"Kill that drifter. You didn't have too." I say.  
>"Wouldn't ya do the same?" He asks. I narrow my eyes. Would I? The only reason Daryl is here is because he saved me. He nods.<br>"So is this ya paying your debt or somethin?" He says. I begin biting my nails but recoil my hand almost immediately as I start. The habit was annoying and made it obvious that I was nervous. I didn't say anything. I couldn't. He was right.  
>"Don't talk much, do ya?" he asks. We lock eyes for a moment. Then I realize I haven't give him any Oxy.<br>"Take two, you'll sleep like rock. I'll let you sleep on the bed tonight but tomorrow you'll sleep in the sleeping bag. Once you've healed you'll have to leave." I say as I handed him the Oxy. He nods.  
>He gulps it down in one swallow. I help him to the bed. He removes his jacket and lays down. He falls asleep quickly.<p>

"Gin." Willow giggles. Over the past few days Willow has been teaching Daryl different card games. She seems to be delighted by his company. I was sitting in the corner, nose deep in my favorite book, The Hobbit.  
>"I'm going to bed." Willow says. I hear shuffling of the cards.<br>"Come on give me a chance to get even." Daryl replies.  
>"Tell you what, you win against Ireland, and you'll be the best card player." Willow says. I try to ignore them but there was an unusual silence. I glance up. They're both looking at me.<br>"Well?" Willow asks. I put down my book and tread over the table.  
>"What game?" I ask.<br>"Gin?" Daryl offers. I nod and start shuffling the cards. I glimpse at Daryl. He was looking at me but  
>flinches and looks away. I direct my attention back to the cards. Everytime I catch him staring my stomach flutters. It upsets me and I start to feel queasy. Willow lays on the bed and soon I hear her muffled snores.<br>I deal out seven cards each and rest the remainder of down. I sort my hand. My hand consists of the five and eight of spades, the Jack and King of hearts, the two of clubs, the three of diamonds, and four of clubs. Daryl puts down the two of hearts.  
>I pick up the two of hearts and discard my three of diamonds. Daryl picks up a card and puts it down, it's the ace of clubs.<br>"Ya really take good care of her. She's lucky." He says. I grab a card. Ten of spades. I put it down. I didn't look up.  
>"She's my sister." I say. He takes the card he picks up and he puts down the ace of hearts. I pick it up and discard the four cubs.<br>"Merle never would have done anythin like that for me." He replies. My eyes shot up at him. There's that name again, Merle.  
>"Merle?" I ask.<br>"My brother." He answers. I nod. He put down a queen of hearts. I pick it up and discard a five of spades.  
>"Well...she's all I have." I say. He puts down a two of diamonds and I pick it up.<br>"Gin." I say. He chuckles. I collect the cards and shuffle them for a while. I could feel his eyes on me.  
>"Did you have any other family?" He asks. The pit of my stomach stings at the question.<br>"Yes." I say. I stop shuffling and avoid his gaze. My cheeks flush. The tension accelerates in the room.  
>"I had a brother, Eli." I say. I chew the inside of my cheek. Holding back tears, I look at him. My head shakes and I look at my folded hands.<br>"He was so mad." I say. "That he didn't die in battle that he died on leave."  
>"Are those dogtags his?" He asks nodding to my chest. I shake my head. My fingers wrap around my tags.<br>"They're mine. Lance Corporal. I was a marine like my brother." I say. "I also had a sister, Annabelle. I don't know if she made it. She was in Washington before this happened." I say. I cross my arms. There was a moment of silence.  
>"You?" I ask.<br>"My brother Merle." He says. We sit there, in the looking at eachother. For a moment we both understood each other. That's what all survivors have in common, we all have lost someone. We all know what it feels like. Overseas Eli has lots many brothers in arms. I know understand him. I held Eli in my arms before he turned. Pushing back tears, I allow myself to bite my nails.  
>Maybe that's why I did it. I didn't want to lose anyone else, even if he was a stranger, he saved my life. And now I know that I would do the same.<p> 


	7. Dreams

**Dreams**  
><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

I was laying on my bed staring at the ceiling. Everything seems to be in a haze. I look to my side to look at Willow but she isn't there. It was Daryl. My emotions seem to explode by the sight of him. The sensation was irregular. For some reason though I am not anxious.  
>He caresses my face and smiles. I look down only to see that I'm naked. Quickly I pull the covers to hide my exposed body.<br>"Hey." He says. He grabs my hand to stop me and before I knew it we were kissing. My skin feels on fire as he rubs his hands on my legs. Now I realize he's naked. He embraces me. He is heavily breathing now and but mine has been held in my lungs since he first kiss me. He gently moans in my ear. I tug his hair. He strokes my inner thigh. I sigh. He reaches higher and higher and he is about to-

I jump up in bed. It was a dream. It was all a dream. I run my fingers through my hair and sigh. Ridiculous. I feel embarrassed and humiliated.  
>"You alright?" Daryl asks. I blush. Before I didn't realize he was awake.<br>"I-I'm fine." I stutter. He raises a brow but he returns to his book.  
>"Okay." He mutters with smile.<br>*** * *  
><strong> "You have hunting experience?" Daryl asks. My bow is drawn with an arrow ready to fire. I cautiously hike just waiting for a sound to alert me. Daryl has been eyeing my bow ever since we left. I nod.  
>"My father took me and my brother hunting occasionally." I say. I glimpse at his crossbow.<br>"What about you?" I inquire. He nods.  
>"My brother taught me everything I know." He says. "Hunting for my own food wasn't a struggle after the world gone to shit." He says. I remain silent.<br>"So are you handy with that thing?" He asks. I shrug.  
>"I'm alright." I say. He chuckles.<br>"Willow says you're the best." He says. They talked about me? I scoff.  
>"I'm alright." I repeat.<br>"Maybe I'll see you shot something." He remarks.  
>"You'll just have to have to take my word for it." I say. Again silence. I can hear the running water.<br>"What's that tattoo." He says nodding to my upper forearm. There are two black rings that circle my arm, like a bracelet.  
>"My brother had the same tattoo. It was my first one. It doesn't really symbolizes anything." I say.<br>"You have others?" He asks. I nod.  
>"I have a little tattoo on my side of running wolves in a line." I say.<br>"Maybe I'll see that too." He says. The pit of my stomach stings. The dream comes to mind. I glare at him, astonished he would be so blunt.  
>"Kidding, damn why ya so sensitive, jesus." He says. I straighten myself out and continue down the path. He follows. For a second I smile. At first I think it might be relief but apart of me knows that it was him thinking of it. I remove the smile. It was wrong to like him. Even if I can't deny it, I can ignore it.<p> 


	8. Moonlight

Moonlight  
>Chapter 8<p>

"Where did you learn to fillet a fish?" He asks. I pull out the remaining bones.  
>"My mother. She was born and raised in Alaska." I explain. Placing the meat next to the other fillets, I take another fish and continue.<br>Daryl was almost healed but he was still slow and limped. Another period of silence. Daryl wasn't the talking type and neither was I.  
>But the tension was unbearable. I wasn't sure if I was the only one who felt it or this was the only justification of why he was pacing. It was too strange, I had to break the reticence.<br>"You're leg is healing up well." I say. He stops pacing and gazes down at his leg.  
>"I guess." He shrugs. "Thanks to you." We lock eyes for a moment. Then my knife slips and slices my finger.<br>"Ow!" I mumble. I feel my face get hot as I race over to the creek. I hear loud thuds behind me. When Daryl walks he causes lots of noise due to his limping.  
>"Let me see it." He says. I shake my head and proceed to wash it out.<br>"It's just a cut." I say.

"Let me help ya." he insists.  
>"It's just a cut." I repeat as I stand. He grabs my hand.<br>I try to ignore the feeling of his rough fingers holding my hand. He rips a small part of his shirt and ties it on the incision. My finger throbs. He still hasn't let go of my hand. I know he is contemplating on whether or not he should do something. My lip quivers. I am frozen. He pulls me in and he lays his lips on mine. After a moment of hesitation I kiss back but quickly pull back. I avoid his gaze and go back to the fish.

On our way back the sun hung high and we kept a good pace. No one spoke a word. I didn't look at him once but I felt his eyes on me more than once. Then he stops.  
>"Ireland." I flinch when he says my name.<br>"I think I overstayed my welcome.I'm going to leave." he says. I'm too surprised for words. Part of me is relieved, however, I didn't want him to leave.  
>"A-Are you sure?" I ask. He nods. I pull out a bottle of oxy and some fish. I hand it over.<br>"Thank you." He mumbles.

I stare at my finger with Daryl's shirt wrapped around it. It was so quick and unexpected. I thought he would stay a little longer. I guess not. Then that kiss. I sigh.  
>"Oh shit." I say. I forgot my knife at the quiver of arrows at the river. Glancing at Willow I climb out the bunker and run to the stream.<p>

I recover my quiver and give a sigh of relief. All arrows are accounted for. Quickly I check my surroundings. I have never been out here at night. It was nice. The light from the moonlight shimmers off the water. It was cold but worth the trip. I smile.  
>Clunk!<br>I fall to the ground. I hear a crack and my ankle shoots up pain. There is a throbbing pain on my head. Everything was spinning. I am freezing. The silhouette hovers over me. I try to push them off but they shoves me on my stomach and takes my arrows.  
>"No…" I say. Weak and feeble I lie there as they take my knife. Using my own knife they cut my cheek I scream. The person licks the streak of blood off my face. I kick. They groan and hit me in the head. Blackness.<br>* * *

It is still night when I awoke. At first I thought i was dreaming, but it felt so real. My teeth chattered and muscle are tensed. When I fell, I landed in the water. My vision was blurry. I feel someone touch my arm and I recoil and try to crawl away.  
>"Hey, hey. It's me." It's Daryl. I'm too cold to respond. All I do is throw my arms around his neck. He holds me for a second. After I break away he takes off his jacket and puts it around me. When he helps me up, I stagger. The trees were spinning. I momentarily forget about my twisted ankle and I put weight on it. I give out cry. He catches me before I fall.<br>"Here." He says. He lifts me up and starts walking. I pass out.


	9. Chills

**Chills  
>Chapter 9<br>**  
>I come to consciousness in a series of hazy blinks. Although I feel frigid and stiff, the warmth from the luminous light seemed inviting from my blurred vision. Once my sight cleared the pain began to pulse through my body, more so in back of my skull. Next, my ears opened to hear the quiet snores. I realize that I am in the bunker, in bed between Daryl and Willow. Willow is asleep, made obvious by her settle breathing. Daryl, however, is watching the ceiling. I study him for a moment.<br>It all comes back to me. All the images seem faint and fuzzy. The hit, the blackness, the cold and Daryl once again rescuing me. I hated it. The constant saving. I wasn't his problem and he wasn't mine, and yet we seem to end up each other's problems.  
>Deep down, however, I know that's not how I truly felt. I was infuriated at myself for getting into dangerous dilemmas. It's different now. I'm different now. Regardless what has and what will, apart of me will always know that I will be Daryl's savior when he is predicament.<br>Daryl glances at me and his eyes widen a little when he understood that I awoke. We stare at each other for awhile, neither of us not knowing what to say.  
>His eyes are tired and it is only now I realize that he has no shirt. I try to be discreet when I eye his chest but my blush gives it away. Swiftly, I look away immediately. He tenses.<br>"Wha- What happened?" I ask. He clears his throat and his eyes wonder the room.  
>"I…uh, heard a scream. It was you. When I got to ya, you were already passed out. I thought that ya could have been dead." He says. "I brought you back and Willow was awake, she was scared."<br>Willow...I left her for a quiver full of arrows. Not only was the quiver wasn't worth my life it wasn't worth hers. I start gnawing at my nails.  
>"She said you had hyperthermia and needed body heat." He coyly glances at his exposed torso. Willow was right.<br>Once I fell off a boat in the Kenai River in Alaska during the winter months. Five minutes I would have been dead. The sensation was startling. My veins felt like they were filled with ice rather than warm blood. Out of the water, I couldn't control the shaking. I was like a frightened animal shaking from the distress of exposure to humans.  
>When someone has hyperthermia, body heat and food is how you treat it. Usually people get naked and huddle together. I was glad that Willow didn't instruct Daryl to get naked.<br>"You've haven't been asleep for very long. Twenty minutes maybe." I could tell by the recurring shivers.  
>"You didn't see who attacked me?" I ask. He pauses. Patiently, I wait for an answer.<br>" No. But I've got an idea who it might've been." He says. I remain silent.  
>"Before you first saw me, my group were held captive in Terminus." He continues. I raise a brow. A few weeks ago, while up in a tree waiting for game, a small group of 'hunters' passed me. One of them mentioned Terminus. Not long after that, I encounter these 'hunters' again. They were dragging a corpse and one of the hunters wondered out loud what she would taste like. For a while I didn't let Willow go out alone. I thought they would be gone by now.<br>"Turns out they're cannibals. When we were fighting back, I got separated from the group. That's when you saw me. One must've followed me." He says.  
>"Couldn't he have followed you here?" I ask. He shakes his head.<br>"I was careful. I wouldn't have brought you back and put you two at risk unless I was sure it was safe" He assures.  
>Another shiver tremors through my body. My eyes narrow. He puts his arm around me. He's warm.<br>"Just be clear, I didn't save you to get invited back into your bunker. I'll be out of here in the morning." He says. Way to ruin the moment, I thought. I simper.  
>"Stay." I say. "It's winter. You'll be safer here." I say. The corner of his mouth twitches. I know he doesn't want to the offer because dignity. Daryl and I have more in common than I thought. Eventually he nodded.<br>If Daryl didn't thought of the way he thought about me, he'd probably told me to "fuck off" out of smugness. Daryl didn't need anybody and he certainly didn't need me. So what made him stay?  
>I peck him softly on the lips. He hesitates. Then he pulls me into a deeper kiss. His tongue is soft and his warm breath makes the chills disappear from my body. He scoffs quietly when I pull away. Coyly I smile.<br>I nuzzle in his arms and roll up in a ball. Pride and ego aside, I'm glad he stayed.


	10. Christmas

**Christmas  
>Chapter 10<strong>

On the eve of Christmas, we all gathered around the table to enjoy the divine and savory meal that Willow and I have prepared for us. We enjoy the venison that I tracked and killed yesterday, potatoes we've grown outside the bunker and red wine that I brought back weeks ago on the scavenge run. I haven't seen so much food on a plate since before the outbreak. I almost feel overwhelmed by the amount of cuisine in front of me. Little after the outbreak I started to view food as nourishment and a life source rather something to be savored and enjoyed.  
>I take a sip of wine. The bite of the alcohol had the perfect balance with the succulent sweetness. A few years ago I would have thought the taste was acrid, almost vingery. But now I fancy the bitter taste. With one taste, Willow's face went from curious to disgusted. I laugh as she rises to make some tea. I let my eyes meet Daryl's.<br>For the past couple of weeks, its been like this. Subtle brief eye contact, our fingers touching lightly, small pecks he steals in the woods and the hasty stares at my ass. One night, while Willow slept, I snuck into his sleeping bag. We did nothing. I just listened to the soft beating of his heart. It wasn't about romance or affection. I don't know if I am even capable of love. Deep down I needed to know that this is real. That this all wasn't a dream. I needed to know someone was going through this with me.  
>Either of us don't really know what is between us. Confidently I can say we trust one another with our lives.<br>I take another sip. Willow has cut Daryl's hair in the past week. It's short, about an inch long. His hair is now lighter and almost makes him look boyish. I don't think he notices it.  
>"I wish we had a piano. Ireland is really good." Willow remarks. I blush in always makes me sound a lot better than I really am.<br>"Is that true?" asks Daryl. I shrug.  
>"I was okay, I guess." I say. Willow raises her eyebrows.<br>"Was okay? Ireland was the best player at her high school. I bet if we had a piano that she could play without a flaw." she says. That wasn't true, there was this other player, Veronica Leon. She played wonders. If was as if she was apart of the piano. She never played with a imperfection. She was the best. Was. She probably didn't survive. She probably is dead just like that life I once had. My smile fades.  
>"I was okay." I repeat.<br>*** * *  
><strong> I have been drunk two times before. At a graduation party from cheap beer and wine from a box. Another time was after boot camp from Norwegian vodka and malt liquors. The occasional slurred words made Willow giggle.  
>"You're drunk." She laughs. Daryl must be used to something stronger like moonshine. But I could tell he was a little fuzzy.<br>"Just in time, the bottle is empty." Daryl says.  
>"That's okay there's another bottle" I say. Daryl laughs. When I rise to go get the other bottle, Daryl stops me. I stumble and fall into him.<br>"Seriously?" He says. I glance down at my feet and then gaze back up.  
>"My ankle is… um." I start.<br>"It's already healed. I think you'd better call it a night." He says. I start to feel a little warm. My eyes widen and I shake my head. Suddenly, I know I am about to throw up. I turn my heal and run to the exit. A few feet from the bunker, I vomit.  
>Immediately upon I am finished, I feel loads better. There's a rustle in the trees. Wind most likely. I couldn't tell because everything was spinning. I fall on hard on the ground.<br>It must've been thirty seconds until I came back to my senses. That's when I smelled it, smoke. When I stood, I almost fell back to the ground but a nearby tree caught me. Then I saw where the smoke had came from. The bunker was engrossed in flames. I run. They could be in there.  
>As I jump down, I try to dodge any fiery blaze and I am most successful. I see Daryl unconscious on the floor. Willow is nowhere to be found. She must've looked for me when I was throwing up. I lift Daryl and put his arm over my shoulder. I cough as the smoke infests in my lungs.<br>It takes forever to lift him up the ladder. With cries of pain and struggle I finally get him up to safe ground. I glance back the bunker. My eyes notice my bow and sheaf of arrows and Daryl's crossbow. We are sure as dead without them. I convey a flustered sigh.  
>Quickly I snag the weapons and sprint to the ladder. When I get to Daryl I notice a small gash on his forehead which must be the reason he is unconscious.<br>"Daryl! Daryl wake up. Come on Daryl!" I say gently tapping his face. I then suspect the worse and my heart drops. I place my head against his chest. A strong but faint heartbeat pumps against his chest. He wakes up dazed.  
>"He took her." He whispers. His voice is raspy from the large amount of intake of smoke.<br>"What?" I say.  
>"He took her. The hunter. He took Willow." He says. It feels as if gravity's unyielding pull on me tighten it's hold.<br>"Go." He says. I give him his crossbow. "I'll be behind ya when I get my footing. Go!" he yells. If it was anyone else I would have stayed with him. But this was Willow, sweet Willow. I turn my heel and run. I am gone in a matter of seconds.


	11. Death Before Dawn

**Death Before Dawn  
>Chapter 11<strong>

I sprint to the last landmark I encountered the hunter at, the creek. Bow in hand I am prepare to have to do the worst. I run for what seems like forever but once I can hear the running water I crash into something. It is only when I am on the forest floor that I realize it's another person. From the light of the moon I know it isn't Daryl. The man, probably another hunter, struggles for his gun. I draw an arrow and fire. He had fired too before the arrow had pierced his right temple. The bullet zips by me and hits a trunk behind my left arm.  
>His body thuds against the ground. I hear a scream.<br>"Ireland!" Willow screams. I bolt to the source. The stream. Desperately I survey the area. Then I see it. Across the creek a sliver of red hair flashes in the moonlight.  
>I navigate over the river. It is hard to haul my shaky legs out of the muddy riverbed but with two powerful jerks I am free.<p>

It's been hours now. There hasn't been a single scream. All the effects of the alcohol has dispersed and left a raging headache. I can hear the early birds chirping and singing as the sky lights up. Where is she? What has happened? I can stop myself from thinking the worst but refuse to believe it.  
>At that instant, I hear sobs. My head perks up. It sounds like Willow. The noises of weeping wasn't too distant. Cautiously I shuffle towards the sniveling. There about twenty yards away from me, Willow is secured to a tree trunk. I waste no time and rush to her aid. When she sees me she gives out a cry of relief. The blood has drained from her face and her eyes are widened with worry. To me she seems younger and smaller now. Perhaps its because she is tired and feeble. Anger seeps through my veins. My jaw clenches. If , no when I find that hunter, he will wish he killed me that night at the creek.<br>"Ireland." She whispers. I set her free from the black rope. Her small arms wrap around my neck. She continues to cry.  
>"It's okay ." I say. "It's okay."<br>I get up and help her stand. She is still shaking. Then she freezes. I follow her gaze. A slender man aims a gun at me.  
>"Should've killed you when I had the chance." He says. Blood hangs from his mouth and stained his white t-shirt. For a moment, I think he had eaten his partner. I feel sick. That was the reason he left Willow out here on her own.<br>"No matter, it's just been a little delayed." He cocks the gun. As he pulls the trigger it's as if time ceased to exist. First gunfire, then a scream and lastly I am pushed off my feet. Before I understand what's happened, it is too late. Willow lays on the ground, drowning in her own blood. She's still lucid. I scream.  
>"Shit!" The man says and is about to shoot again. Suddenly he's on the ground wrestling with Daryl. I look at Willow. She says my name but my ears ring and I don't hear her. Grasping my hand she puts something in it. It's the golden crucifix that our mother gave her long before she died. Willow's face is as pale as the moon. She holds tightly on my shirt. Then her eyes go blank. Everything of my being drops. I begin to sob. For the last time, I hold her close to me. Her blood runs down my back and shirt.<br>"No!" I scream. Daryl has the man under the barrel of his own gun. The man smirks as the tears flow down my cheeks. It takes a minute to composure myself. After grief, there is anger. I place Willow's body gently on the ground. I march over to the man. The rest was a blur, just me throwing punches. Daryl tries to pull me away.  
>"Get away from me Daryl!" I yell as I shove him away. Next I grab a rock and smash the mans face. After one blow he's dead but I keep hitting him.<br>"Ireland!" Daryl shouts. I stop. He helps me up. My hands are trembling in pain and I don't think I can walk. Blood covers me. I don't know whose is it, but I think it's both.  
>"Shit. The gunshot must've alerted them." says Daryl. I look up. A swarm of drifters are coming towards us. I take on last glimpse at Willow. I won't even get to bury her, I think. Daryl takes my hand and we race out of there never to look back.<p> 


	12. Heartbroken

**Heartbroken  
>Chapter 12<strong>

I twist the tiny cross in the sunlight. It's still stained with blood, her blood. I haven't said anything and neither has Daryl. Everytime I try to speak my throat closes and heart sinks down from my chest. But there is nothing to say. Nothing worth expressing. I keep considering that I might be in a horrid dream and I awake soon. But as time lapses the possibility leaves my 's as if I am struggling to breathe and my lungs are full of sorrow. The feeling overwhelms me.  
>Daryl sits beside me. I don't remove my gaze from the cross. For awhile there is silence. He grabs my hand. I still don't look at him.<br>"It's alright." He says. Is it? Willow is dead, and I can't help to think it's my fault. I bite the inside of my cheek. It's still sore from the last time I gnawed at it so I bite my nails. I try to push the memories out of my mind but they sliver back to swarm my mind. Her screams still linger in my ears. It's only when Daryl caresses my face that it all stops.  
>No, there is him. I'm still alive because of him. Although alive, I feel like I'm dying. I have lost everything. With Willow gone I have lost the life before this. As if it were a dream and not reality. My identity has vanished.<br>My gaze goes to Daryl. His blue eyes look into mine. Mine must be blank by the expression he gives. I push back the tears. I stand, brush myself off and speak for the first time in hours.  
>"We should find a place to stay." I say. He nods, almost disappointed.<br>We enter the town's border. The sun is about to set in the horizon. We find a house not too far from the border. Checking every room we find no drifters. I busy myself covering the windows and barricading the doors. Daryl checks for food.  
>"Well there's a can of lentil soup and canned peaches." Daryl says. "Not much of anything else."<br>"Go ahead." I croak. "I'm not hungry."  
>"Ireland you haven't eaten since last night." He says. I shake my head. The very thought of food makes my stomach churn.<br>"No really. I'm not hungry." I say. He watches me. I just give a shrug.  
>"It'll just come back up." He narrows his eyes and nods. He did tell me about his brother but only vaguely. All he said was that he was killed in front of him. He must then understand, right? In some way.<br>*** * ***

"I'll take watch." I say. He shakes his head almost immediately.  
>"No, you need sleep." He objects. Even though I am utterly exhausted, I know I won't be able to sleep. But he doesn't give in.<br>"Ireland, sleep is the only thing that will help. I wish someone told me that when Merle…" He trails off but I know what he was saying.  
>"Okay." I say. I know he means well and honestly there's nothing he can do. He knows this but he doesn't give up. I am heartbroken. Even though he holds me while I sleep I still wake up from the nightmare of Willow being devoured. Because that's what happened when we left her body. She's one of them now. It's my fault. It's my own fault.<br>I sob into Daryl's chest. This is the first time I have cried after Willow had died. When I weep I feel I have opened something for everyone to see. Something that I have closed and locked. It's my greatest fear. Vulnerability.  
>I never wanted anyone to witness it. I never wanted anyone to know. It's frightening letting someone in like that. But he stays and holds me. Because if anyone understands it's Daryl Dixon.<p> 


	13. Sensual

**Sensual  
>Chapter 13<strong>

The lingering sting from the loss of Willow is slipping away. Doesn't mean it still hurts. The pain just hits me out of nowhere making it hard to not to bawl. I wonder where she is, if she's looking over me. For the past month I have been glancing at the crucifix around my neck with skepticism. If God was real why would he take her away from me? Was it mercy to take her somewhere wonderful than to leave her here live in fear?  
>No, she deserved to live. She had to live. Not only was she part of the future but she was the remainder of humanity. She proved it when she gazed up at me and pleaded with her eyes that we save Daryl. She saved my life. That's what stings the most.<br>Only days after her death, I have implored Daryl to leave me behind. My defense was that I would slow him down and get him killed. I already had too much blood on my hands. And honestly all I wanted to do was die. But he refused to leave.  
>A few days after that I realized that if I did die then Willow's death would have been for nothing and I was selfish for thinking it. For Willow's sake I made an effort to get better.<p>

Daryl and I were out hunting in the nearby woods. We agreed to split up but had to be in close distance of each other. To know the other one is safe we would whistle like a bird. From my father, I learned how to whistle by cupping your hands and blowing between your thumbs. This is the whistle I use. After about an hour I had caught a nice, fat rabbit. Not too long after the kill I stumble across a Hackberry Elm tree. Small blue berries hang from the thin branches. I begin picking occasionally exchanging whistles with Daryl.  
>Being out in the woods is the only thing that feels natural to me. Ever since Willow died nothing seems the same anymore. But the woods are the only thing that remains the same. I give a quick whistle, but there is no response. I whistle again. Nothing. I grab my bow and start to run.<br>"Daryl!" I yell. There is no reply. Then I see them. Daryl is on the ground being beaten by a two men. There is another man on the ground with one of Daryl's arrow plunged in his upper thigh. One of the men aimed his barrel at Daryl's head. Without hesitation or time to aim I fire a bow to hit man. The arrow sunk into his wrist and gun flies out his hand. I run to Daryl's side before he takes another blow. I raise my hand to stop it but I'm too late. The man's club hits me in the jaw. The trees start shaking. I am dazed. The man stops before he swings his club again.  
>"What the..." He says. The man that I injured in the hand gets up. I now have a good look at the two men.<br>One of them, a tall, dark skinned man with the club, has blood streaming from his nose. The other, the one that still has an arrow lodged in his hand, has a large lump swelling by the second. Daryl didn't go down without a fight. There were just too many of them.  
>"Fucking bitch." The man moans trying to pull out the arrow. He starts over to me.<br>"Ireland run." Daryl mutters. He still lies on the ground with a gash on his forehead. The man tears the arrow from his palm. He gives a slight groan.  
>"Shh." I say. I am grabbed by the throat. He scans me up and down. A wolfish grin crosses his face. I bite the inside of my cheek. Behind me I hear Daryl struggle. I glance over to him. The large man has his foot planted on his chest.<br>"Pretty face, little girl. You shouldn't be in the woods alone." He spits. His eyes were as cold as a snakes. I can hear Daryl thrashing around. He throws me to the ground. My bow is only an arms length away. But when I grab it he crushes my hand. I give out a yelp. He's over me, hands gripping my wrists.  
>"No!" Daryl yells. I stare into the mans eyes and I will not show any fear. He kisses me hard. It's slimy and gross. I bite his tongue until I taste blood. With the back of his hand he smacks my cheek. I'm almost smiling because that's what I predicted. My hand is free and I don't fumble. I jab him in the nose.<br>I know hover him now. I stomp my foot on his injured palm and he screeches. This is where I hesitate, only for just one second. But it's a second too long because the other man picks me up off my feet. Not a moment later an arrow sinks in the man's skull. I roll off his body and run to my bow. The man intercepts me. He tries to throw a punch but i catch it, twist his wrist and kick his stomach. While he is on the ground I pull my knife out. In the eye I pierce my knife. He is dead in second.  
>I wipe the blood on his shirt. Grabbing my bow I turn to Daryl about to ask what happened when I am surprised by a kiss. I think what almost happened to me scared him more than it did me. Honestly, I am not that bothered. I don't know why really.<br>"Jesus next time run." He says. To my amazement, he is serious. My eyes narrow and I nod even though I will never run. He's all I got left really. He pulls me into his arms.  
>"What the hell happened?" I ask. He sighs.<br>"Prick try to take my crossbow. He didn't like me saying no." He says. When my adreline wears down I start to feel the throbbing pain in my head and wrist. My knuckles are split and bloody and I notice Daryl's are too.  
>"No more splitting up." He says.<br>I gulp. I almost lost Daryl today. If I had come running a second later he would have been dead. My heart starts beating faster. What would I have done then?  
><strong>* * *<strong>  
>I awoke with a glistening light shining in my eyes. I have slept until morning. The pain in my head has subsided. Daryl didn't wake me for my shift for watch. For some reason I'm not mad. I can't be mad at him after yesterday. I don't want to lose him. There's a stir of emotions in my stomach. What I feel for Daryl is so complex that I do not fully understand. All I knew is that I needed him. My 'need' frightened me. It's just another sign of vulnerability.<br>Rising from my bed, I roam the house trying to find him. I locate him in the kitchen. When his eye catches me he starts explaining why he didn't wake me.  
>"I thought ya could use the sleep. Ya haven't been sleeping much so it…" I interrupt him with a kiss. A long passionate kiss. Something stirs in my chest. I wanted more. I jump into his arms and he carries me to the bedroom. He places me on the edge of the bed. My fingers tremble with excitement. I yank his belt off and toss it to the ground. I climb onto my knees and start unbuttoning his shirt. When his shirt is removed, my eyes dance over his chest. There are scars. He wasn't covered in them but there seemed to be many. I raise my hand to trace over one but he grabs my hand. I jump. My eyes flash up to him. He must of realized his harsh grasp because his grip loosens and he kisses my palm.<br>He removes my shirt. I feel exposed and cross my arms, but not against my chest. Against my ribs. When my parents were divorcing my mother started take drugs to numb her pain. By this time it was only me and Willow in the house. I was so furious I took her drugs and flushed them away. With a broken wine bottle my mother stabbed me. My father got a call from the hospital. That's when he came back. My anger towards my mother has subsided but the scar never faded. It's now a cluster of uneven lines.  
>He raises his hand to feel it but I grab it before he does, knowing why he did the same action. He was hurt too. Someone close caused him pain. My eyes rise to meet his. Taking his hand I place it over my heart were it rapidly beats. He kisses me lightly, gently parting my lips with his tongue. His finger gingerly touches my skin. My hands find the button on his jeans and once unbuttoned I use my feet to push them off. Mine have already been pulled off. I must've not noticed him pulling them off. His lips slide down to my neck while his fingers find my middle.<br>I never done anything like this before. I didn't know what to expect. But once his fingers rub my inner thighs my thoughts go back to that dream. I moan. Our foreheads touch. Everything is in a haze. But once it starts my eyes widen with surprise. He moans. It hurts but it's a good type of pain, something I have never felt before. His hands go wild all over my body while he places his lips on my breast.  
>My hands ball up into fist as they grip the sheets. I whimper.<br>"Daryl...Oh." I moan. I see him smile as our noses bump.  
>"You okay, darling?" he says. I grin and nod. I pull his face and kiss lightly. He grabs my hand and starts kissing my chest, my ribs and then my stomach.<br>"Jesus, you're beautiful." He says. My cheeks feel hot. He kisses my thigh and when he starts at my center I tug on his hair.  
>"Oh." I gasp. That's when I can't control myself. I moan and grab the bars of the bed and whimper. I can feel it coming. But before anything happens, Daryl raises his head and pull my legs toward his torso. I yelp in surprise. I sit up and meet his gaze. I am still panting and gasping his hair. I sigh as I feel the sprout of tingles shoot through my body. He gives a short moan when he kisses me and rests me back on the mattress. He places his lips firmly on mine. Laying beside me, he pulls me in close and I lay on his chest while our gaps for air are the only thing that fills the room.<p> 


	14. Into the Woods

**Into the Woods  
>Chapter 14<strong>

I stare at the ceiling. My breath has caught back up to me and the exhilarating thrill dissipated awhile ago. Humiliation and shame fills me. I acted out of pure longing and whim. I never really thought what I was doing until it was all over. This was worse than crying, I showed and expressed myself completely to him. The more I think about it, he barely knows me. It doesn't matter anyway. That life before the outbreak is long behind me and fully vanished when Willow died.  
>I couldn't stay in that bed any longer, I felt suffocated. Daryl sleeps with his back to me. He wasn't exactly a light sleeper so sneaking out from the covers wasn't a challenge.<br>I grab my clothes and tiptoe out of the room. Putting on my boots, I grab my bow and arrows and leave the house. I needed to escape into the woods where my thoughts can relax. I walk across the cool pavement with my arms crossed. It's dawn and every minute a star disappears from the ray of light. Drifters sluggishly stroll around cars and the neighborhood. I take a few out.  
>I run into the woods which are still darken by the lack of light. I tread lightly on the dry pine needles. It's about an hour until I can make out a foot ahead of me.<br>I keep walking and don't think to stop. It could have been hours or minutes and I wouldn't have noticed. Then I stumble out into a clearing. There it was. The bunker that kept me and Willow safe for almost a year. I bite my lip.  
>I make my way down the ladder and into the dark room. Ash covers the floor and it almost appears to be snowing. My eyes narrow to the floor. We were safe here, I thought. The structure was fine. The cement walls were unharmed by the flames but everything else would have to be cleared out. But it seemed impossible returning. Just standing here made the pain of her loss reappear. I could never stay here again.<br>I turn to go but something catches my eye. Under the ashes something shimmered in the light. I pull it from the pile of powder. Sickness flares in the pit of my stomach. It was a picture of when I graduated from boot camp. I was in my uniform and so was Eli. Willow clutching my waist with a smile ear to ear on her face. My father was the one who had taken the picture and my mother was dead by then. Even if she was alive at the time, I don't think she would have been in the photograph. My eyes start stinging. I don't know if its from the dust or the lingering tears I have for Eli and Willow. I tuck the picture in my back pocket and ascend up the ladder one more time.


	15. Moving On

**Moving On**  
><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

I try to be quiet when I enter the house but I know Daryl isn't sleeping. The beats of my heart echoes in my ears. The pain of the picture hasn't subsided. When I slip in the room, I rest my back against the wall. Daryl isn't here. Did he go out looking for me? Did he think I ran? I slide down the wall and burry my head in between my knees. I hope Daryl isn't angry, even though he has every right to be. We agreed to not split up. Maybe he'll leave now. Maybe he'll go. Maybe he isn't coming back. A shot of torment fumes inside me. It was stupid of me to leave. I didn't even think of how he react. Selfish.  
>Maybe him leaving is a blessing in disguise. If I am alone I won't have to see anyone else die. And for Daryl he won't be slowed down. If anyone will survive this, it's Daryl. It's someone like me in mourning who will get him killed.<br>I hear the door close and footsteps trek into the house. I burry my face deeper into my own arms. I think It might be Daryl.  
>The shuffling footsteps stop and an irritated sigh follows. I gulp. The grip around my knees tightens. Daryl is not amused by my behavior.<br>"Where the hell were ya?" He snaps. Biting my lip I look up, not hiding my face anymore. I almost lose it by the expression shown on his face.  
>"The woods." I say. Daryl is covered in drifter blood, sweat, and dirt. His crossbow has a new layer of grime but is still clean enough to spot an arrow drawn.<br>"I thought we agreed no more splitting up." He says angrily.  
>"I know. I'm sorry." I say as my eyes narrow. There is pause.<br>"That's it? I have been out there for hours looking for you!" He shouts. I don't say anything. He starts pacing. I deserve this.  
>"Why did you leave? Why didn't you tell me?"He says. I open my mouth to speak but the words get caught in my throat. He wouldn't understand would he? How frightening being completely exposed to someone is? When I thought it through, I realized how childish it is. I shake my head.<br>"Tell me." His voice is softer now. He kneels beside me.  
>"I had to get out here. I needed air." I say. His eyes narrows and I not sure whether he's relieved or even more hurt. Daryl isn't necessarily easy to read, but we are so much alike it's hard not to notice the tells from his expressions.<br>"Last night was your first?" he asks. I am surprised by this question that I almost want to burry my face in my knees again, like a turtle recoiling in its shell. All I do is nod. He sighs.  
>"Don't leave again." He says. He stands and leaves the room. My gazes drops and I hold my sister necklace in my fingers. I couldn't help but think, why did he stay?<br>*** * *  
><strong>Daryl decided we should move on and leave the house. I didn't argue. We packed and left straight into the woods. It was getting dark about two hours after we left. Daryl rest his bag on the ground and starts to make camp. A large tree stands beside us and I start to climb.  
>"What are you doing?" Daryl asks. I don't meet his gaze, instead I look at the ground. Since we left there wasn't much conversation. I couldn't help feeling hurt by the cold tension.<br>"Safer above ground." I say. I continue to climb and he follows. I find two thick branches close together and neatly secure our bags. Then I take out rope and tie myself to the tree tightly. Daryl does the same.  
>After a long pause I tug out the photo from my back pocket. In the moonlight I can see all three of our faces and I smile.<br>"What's that?" Daryl asks. My smile doesn't fade. I hand it to him.  
>"It's from when I graduated from boot camp." I say. "My brother was a Marine and I followed in his footsteps." I say. Daryl grins.<br>"Wow." He says. "How long ago was this?" He asks.  
>"Two and half years ago. I was eighteen." I say. He gives back the photo. I stuff it back in my back pocket.<p>

"I'll keep fist watch." I say. Daryl grabs my hand and shakes his head.  
>"No, I will. There's no way I'll be sleeping." He says. I nod.<br>"Okay." I say. He kisses my forehead and I rest my head on his shoulder. Slowly, I fall into slumber.


	16. Note to the Readers

**Readers,  
><strong>

** In the next few days I will be busy and writing other stories. I won't stop writing for this story, but I will be taking a break what could be up to a week or two. Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. When I return I will have three new chapters for this story hot of the press! Thank you guys again, you guys are wonderful.**

**-Author, (AbigailBell)**


End file.
